Creation vs Destruction
by xx lunar queen xx
Summary: "No. He didn't hate the Builder. How could he hate someone he cared deeply about? And yet... Things were different now." What if after Moonbrooke, Malroth's hurt and anger spiraled out of control? What if he switched sides? Builderoth if you squint.


**Hello, fellow builders! Here's another oneshot, another angsty oneshot at that.**

**** Beware of spoilers below, but otherwise, I hope you enjoy! ****

**I've been thinking of creating a collection of Builderoth oneshots. They won't be in any set order, they won't be related to each other, and they probably won't be transformed into full-fledged stories. I have so many oneshots saved and ready to post, so if you guys are interested in that sort of thing, lemme know.**

**I also maaay or may not be open to suggestions for a oneshot, just as long as it's not NSFW and it has to do with Female! Builder x Malroth (it could be romantic or platonic/friendship, totally open to either, and the highest rating I will write is T). If you leave a review or PM me and I take on the idea, I will gladly give you credit for it as well!**

**Some of the in-game dialogue was used in this particular piece and more might be used in future oneshots, but none of those lines are mine, so I take no credit for any of it. All rights go to Square Enix.**

* * *

**Creation vs. Destruction**

He didn't hate the Builder.

Actually, he quite liked her. At her core, she was a good person and she tried to help everyone and anyone she met, even if it was at her own expense. Malroth couldn't even begin to count how many nights the Builder went without sleep or a hot meal in order to finish building stuff for the others. It was because of her selflessness that she tended to be on the skinny side, with bags under her eyes despite her sunny demeanor, yet she took on every request with a smile. Her work was a labor of love and she never complained, no matter how specific or frustrating the task might be.

It was her selflessness that drew him to her. The very first day he'd met her, he hadn't understood why she allowed Lulu to boss them around. Malroth had no problem standing up to the pink-haired girl, but the Builder didn't seem to mind; actually, she enjoyed being given things to do, things to build. She didn't even seem to mind Lulu's haughty tone, something that had personally irritated him. He'd grown to have a deep respect for how patient the blonde was. He knew he could stand to learn a lot from her, his own pride be damned.

Malroth couldn't forget all the times he'd carried her to safety after a battle gone wrong. Watching her fight made him nervous; she wasn't a horrible fighter, but put enough monsters in front of her or a monster with true strength, and she wouldn't stand a chance. Malroth took it upon himself to protect her. It felt right to do that, to protect creation while he destroyed whatever tried to destroy _her_. It was something he couldn't explain; his instincts drove him to keep her safe and ensure she had everything she needed, right down to food and getting enough rest. He was sure she'd pull all-nighters until she ran herself into the grave, and he'd never allow her to do that to herself. In fact, one of his greatest points of pride was being able to persuade her to take moments for herself to eat, catch up on sleep, and to do something for herself that didn't involve building. Anyone else could tell the Builder she needed to eat more, but Malroth ultimately had sway over her decisions. If he was telling her it was time to get food, she may protest a little, but she always gave in. They were just that close; she trusted him with her life and he trusted her with everything else.

No. He didn't hate the Builder. How could he hate someone he cared deeply about?

And yet... Things were different now. Back in Moonbrooke, that tainted land where bitter betrayal lurked around every corner, she'd betrayed him by throwing him in that cell. How could she leave him there to rot, only to let him out when they suddenly needed his help? What kind of friend did that? Malroth had done so much for her, he'd put his life on the line countless times without a second thought, and for what? For her to be suspicious of him when he was really the only one she could trust? The Builder had been so quick to turn on him, just like the others, and all because he looked and behaved differently. There was nothing wrong with the way he was. He saved so many lives, he protected each and every island they set their feet on, didn't that count for _anything_?

_"Lulu, tell me... Can she and I... Can creation and destruction ever really get along?"_

_"I don't understand," the pinkette's eyes were, for once, filled with genuine concern. She was _worried_ about him. He'd hated her when they first met, and now she was concerned over his well-being. He didn't know how to feel about that. "You two have had so many wonderful adventures together. If that doesn't answer your question, I don't know what will. And if you're still not sure, you should ask the Builder. She will help you, I just know she will."_

Malroth's mind felt hazy and tingly. Something was truly wrong with him, he could _feel_ it. Ever since before they set off for Khrumbul-Dun, there'd been a voice in his head, claiming he was the Master of Destruction, claiming that he needed to continue looking after the Builder. At first, it had been a nuisance, but now it was painful; his brain felt like it was going to explode, and all he could do was rest on the ground, curled up in the fetal position as pain wracked his skull.

The Isle of Awakening was growing darker and darker until all he could see was inky nothingness. His body felt weightless; he had no idea what was happening to him, but he didn't even have the strength to be scared. All he could focus on was the whispers of that accursed voice, the voice that claimed he was the Master of Destruction, that destruction led to salvation.

He tried picturing the Builder. He tried thinking about all the good times they'd shared: all those nights at the Khrumbul-Dun bar sipping digger's jigger after a long day in the mines, the harvest festival in Furrowfield after working tirelessly to grow vegetables, even... Even felling the high-ranking monster generals in Moonbrooke. The celebratory high fives, the smiles, her adorable laughter, sitting on the bench in Skelkatraz together...

But in thinking about her, all those good times seemed tainted now... The Builder didn't care about him at all, did she? She'd turned on him just like the others, she made him look into that damned mirror even when he begged her not to. Malroth didn't have anything to hide and she should've trusted him. When everyone else was ready to have him locked away, she should've been the one shoulder he could lean on, and she wasn't.

_"You've always been there for her, right? I'm sure she'd be only too happy to do the same for you."_

_..._

_Liar._

She'd let him down. In his hour of need, she'd left him alone. Alone with the voice that kept getting louder and more sinister, which, if he was being honest, was making him uneasy. How could he ever listen to a voice that suggested ending Lulu's life? He and the spoiled young woman bickered often and he thought she was pompous, she thought he was a ruffian, but no matter how annoying she could be, he would never want anything bad to happen to her; especially not now, after getting to know her.

Ever since he'd first opened his eyes on the Isle of Awakening, no memory of his life before winding up on the isle's shores, there had always been a darkness deep inside of him. The voice hadn't started bugging him until after Furrowfield, but at his core, he enjoyed destruction and chaos and fighting. Even more disturbing was his love for the power one could lord over people, the utter control... there was something so _satisfying_ about it. He'd had control and power over Bonanzo and Perry, two sniveling weaklings who followed their stomachs above anything else, but that had been different. Perry and Bonanzo needed to be kept in check, Bonanzo more than Perry. The bushy-bearded man could easily gain power and abuse it; Malroth could see him becoming a very corrupt politician if given the chance, and luckily, others saw it, too. He was relegated power over crops, something harmless and something that kept him from accessing true, dangerous power, the kind of power that Malroth had... If he really wanted to, he could take over the entire Isle of Awakening and make everyone do his bidding. He had the strength of twenty Khrumbul-Dun miners, who exactly could oppose him? And who _would_?

But... No... That wasn't right... They were his friends, weren't they? Everyone there... _They were his friends_. He'd eaten, slept, and fought beside each and every person from Furrowfield, Moonbrooke, and Khrumbul-Dun. They all respected him and treated him like a hero, and he _was_ a hero! He'd saved so many people, he'd worked tirelessly to help the Builder save countless lives and restore hope to so many crestfallen faces. In a way, everyone here was like one big happy family, all working together to create a new home where happiness and freedom reigned. They cared about Malroth just as much as he cared about them, and as upset as he was with the Builder, he still cared about her, too.

_"She left you in your time of need. Would a true friend really do that?"_

"No, but..." Malroth's voice sounded distant and muddled to his own ears, like he was trying to speak underwater.

_"It is nearly time..."_ The voice that had haunted him since before Khrumbul-Dun was no louder than a whisper, yet it seemed to boom throughout his skull. _"Time for You to realize Your true potential as the Master of Destruction!"_

_But I'm not..._ His head ached something fierce and he fought to keep himself conscious. The more Malroth tried to think of his friends, the more the darkness began dragging him under. Their faces became twisted, their smiles malicious, their words and intentions jagged. The last thing he heard was thunder rumbling overhead, and then it all went black.

_"You said it yourself, my Lord... She has no need for You. She is a Builder, and all You do is destroy... Creation and destruction can never be friends. You know what You must do. Awaken, O mighty Malroth... Awaken and satisfy Your thirst for destruction!"_

* * *

"I'm worried about Malroth," the Builder said. Lulu poured the blonde another cup of tea, holding up the sugar bowl in silent offering. The Builder politely declined with a shake of her head, and Lulu filled her own teacup before placing the teapot down.

"He isn't himself," she agreed. "I'm not sure what's going on with him, but it isn't good. He looked sickly the last time I saw him."

The Builder stared into the light brown depths of her tea. She knew she looked rather sickly herself; Anessa, Rosie, Babs, and even Lulu had approached her within the last two days to inquire about her health. She didn't smile anymore and the bags under her eyes indicated she hadn't had a proper night's rest in, well, forever. Her appetite had nearly ceased altogether; it took Lillian literally shoving a plate of spaghetti and fresh bread under her nose for her to eat something after unconsciously fasting since they'd returned to the Isle of Awakening from their expedition on Moonbrooke. That had been a week ago. Since then, occasionally snacking on kelp wasn't cutting it, but the Builder didn't have much room in her stomach for food when she was already full of guilt. All she wanted to do was finish up the castle that Anessa and the others wanted, and then she'd be free to search for Malroth. Then she could try to make things right.

When Brownbeard had first mentioned Moonbrooke, they'd been excited. New friends, new building tasks, new problems to solve; something told them this was going to be the biggest adventure they'd faced and they were itching to see what lay in store on the new island. The Builder couldn't remember the last time she'd seen snow and it was Malroth's first time ever experiencing such weather. It was amazing to think how the king, Anessa, Warwick, and Gerome had been shivering in that hole in the marble wall when they'd first met, and when they left, the king's castle had not only been restored, but it was better than ever. The king went from having three subjects to three hundred, practically overnight. The Builder became more adept at building and Malroth became much more powerful than ever before.

...And then the adventure turned into a nightmare. Slowly but surely, Malroth and the Builder began to grow apart. At first, they were as close as ever, Malroth constantly expressing his excitement over the fact that they were in a war zone. Fighting was his forte and he couldn't wait to get his fill of dominating on the battlefield. Then, as time went on and the others became more and more impressed by the Builder's skills, requesting various weapons to push back enemy forces, Malroth began to grow distant. He often remarked how her weapons were great, but they only went so far; what mattered were the ones willing to fight after the weapons had done their job of weakening opponents. He was correct, of course, but how could he think she was trying to replace him? Malroth wasn't just a fierce warrior—he was her best friend. Nothing and no one could ever replace him, yet no matter how much she tried to assure him of this, he grew jealous and slightly indignant, much like a child throwing a fit over not getting enough attention as their sibling. Malroth's smile became rarer as the days went by, and then he stopped smiling altogether. Gone was the relatively happy young man she'd come to know, and in his place was a quiet, withering, moody person who no longer enjoyed fighting.

Things took a turn for the worse when Warwick tricked everyone into thinking Malroth was the traitor, planting little seeds of doubt wherever he could until finally, he managed to convince the king that imprisonment was necessary. The Builder didn't care about anything after that. She didn't care about the quality of her work, or the fact that Atlas was on his way to crush the castle they'd all worked so hard to defend and rebuild. She didn't care that she felt cold all the time, both inside and out, no matter how many layers she put on, and she didn't care that she no longer slept or ate a healthy amount. All she cared about was freeing her best friend and making things right.

If she had known Warwick was trying to weaken their defenses completely and double cross them, she would have thrown _him_ in that cell herself. Malroth didn't deserve to be tossed in jail, especially not after he'd worked so tirelessly to defend everyone... to defend _her_. It all became one big mess and he wouldn't listen to her when she tried to explain everything. Anessa tried to help and took responsibility for what had happened, but still, Malroth decided it was time they go their separate ways.

_"You're disgusting."_

His words rang in her ears even in her dreams. Malroth had never lifted a finger against her, yet his words hurt her worse than any physical blow ever could.

After returning home and watching him walk away, she'd scoured the island in hopes of finding him, but Malroth was nowhere to be found. The Builder had even asked Brownbeard if he'd given Malroth a lift to some other island, but no, the captain hadn't seen hide nor tail of the tough young man since they'd returned from Moonbrooke. The only word about his well-being had been from Lulu, and he'd even pushed _her_ away. She'd tried talking to him, but he wouldn't have it; he sent her away and warned her not to talk to him again. The pinkette hadn't been hurt so much as she'd been worried; she and Malroth didn't always get along, but he'd never reacted like this before. Something wasn't right.

Sometimes the Builder wished they'd never gone to Moonbrooke. Maybe then they'd still be best friends. Everyone was so focused on building a castle from the ground-up that they hardly even thought about the warrior man who'd fought relentlessly for their freedom. He was one of the biggest contributors to them finding peace, and yet, no one really asked about him or mentioned him save for Anessa. The Builder was a little taken aback by this, but she supposed they just didn't know Malroth like she did. They didn't know that each time they found a new island, he became just as enthusiastic about building as the Builder did; he fought monsters without a second thought if it meant protecting innocent people; he sacrificed his time and energy to help the Builder in whatever she needed help with, even if she tried to tell him she could handle it herself. Malroth was rough around the edges, but he was selfless. He had a good heart.

He'd fought just as hard for them as the Builder had, and where was his credit? Only Anessa and the King seemed to be willing to recognize his efforts. Only Anessa and Lulu commented on how their last battle with Shane and his underlings had been missing something—some_one_.

Much of the conversations between the Builder and the Moonbrookians revolved around what needed to be done next, how to do it, and how to do it properly. How could they just forget about Malroth? She understood excitement over building something new, but... But Malroth was a _friend_! What good was building if your friends weren't around to enjoy it with you? Why weren't they more concerned over his well-being? Anessa had been at odds with him moreso than anyone else on that blasted war-torn island, yet she seemed to be the only one who cared!

The Builder sighed. She glanced out the window, where a few miners were helping to build a new chapel for Sister Esther. She watched as they completed the front of the church, the stained glass windows sparkling in the sunshine. They high-fived each other, a sight that sent a pang of hurt through the Builder.

Speaking of building with friends, where was she when he needed someone to be there for him? Sitting on her butt with Lulu, a hot cup of tea in front of her while they watched people below work on the rest of the new castle library. To be fair, what could she do? He was nowhere on the island, she'd searched every nook and cranny, but he was gone as far as she could tell. How could she try to make things right when she couldn't even find him?

Lulu seemed to pick up on the Builder's inner turmoil because she set her own teacup back on the table. "I'm sure when he's ready, he'll come talk to one of us. Malroth doesn't strike me as stupid, although I do question his sense of taste sometimes... If he needs help, I'm sure he'll find us in his own time. For now, maybe we should allow him the space he's asking for."

The Builder nodded absentmindedly. She knew Lulu was trying to offer comfort, but all she could think about was her ex-best friend, alone and hurting all by himself. Anytime she even had a sliver of doubt about a mission or task, Malroth was always right there cheering her on and encouraging her. She was a Builder and massive projects excited her, but even she had her moments where she'd think, "Am I aiming too high? Is this above my skill level? What if I fail?"

Malroth had been there for every instance of doubt, and now that he was in his hour of need, where was she?

She sighed. When they were finally able to find Malroth, she had a lot of apologizing to do. "I hope he does come to us. I have a lot to make up to him."

"He will. For now, the castle is almost done. I wanted to ask your opinion on what color you think the curtains should be in the royal throne ro—"

Lulu was interrupted by a massive booming noise. An ominous quake shook the island and both young women let out surprised squeaks as they nearly fell out of their chairs. The quake was short-lived, thank goodness, but before Lulu or the Builder could ask what happened, the skies outside rapidly began to grow dark. Thunder rumbled softly, large streaks of lightning lighting up the black clouds that were quickly rolling in.

"What's going on out there?" the Builder asked. She stood and jogged out towards the town square of Cerulean Steppe, where the others were gathered as well. Everyone was staring up at the skies with the same perplexion she felt.

"There wasn't a cloud in the sky before," Jeremiah remarked, voicing what everyone else was thinking. "What in blazes is goo-ing, I mean _going_, on?"

Another rumble shook the island, causing a few people to fall on their rear ends. Rain began to come down in thick, rapid sheets, soaking everyone within minutes. They would've taken shelter if not for the strange voice that seemed to come from all around them.

_"Slain by the Scions of Erdrick, the High Priest Hargon offered up his soul, that mighty Malroth might be reborn..."_

"'Ey, 'oo said that?" Perry asked. Many shuffled uneasily.

_"Ever since that moment, I have lain dormant within him... Biding my time..."_

The voice came again, but this time, it seemed to be coming from the sky. Everyone's attention lifted briefly to the dark clouds that loomed above them. They looked up as much as the rain would allow.

_"This world of nothingness is now filled with the power of creation... The stage is finally set! Almighty Malroth's awakening is at hand!"_

"Seriously, who said that?" Britney spoke up. "'Cause, like, none of us are talking."

"Oi, Builder."

_That_ voice, they recognized. Everyone turned to see Malroth, the warrior they'd all come to know and care for, but... He looked different. The flaming aura that often surrounded him during battle was once more present, yet there were no monsters around. His ruby gaze was hardened and dangerous as it swept over the crowd, causing many to take an unconscious step back. The only way to describe his new appearance was _evil._

"Malroth!" Lulu had no qualms about stepping forward, malicious aura or not. "There you are! We've all been worried sick about you!"

"Yeah, right. You let me sit by myself, much like _she_ left me to rot in that jail cell." His voice was deep and menacing, enough to send chills down a person's spine. "You can't fool me, Lulu. None of you actually cared about me: I was just a tool for you to use against the Children of Hargon."

"That's not true!" the Builder cried out. She stepped forward as well. "We didn't know Warwick was the traitor! If we had known, I never would have let them—"

"_ENOUGH_!"

The entire Isle of Awakening trembled as a massive bolt of lightning cracked across the sky.

"I've had enough of this," Malroth growled. "All you do is make excuses. I'm tired of you using me to do your dirty work. From this point on, we're going to do this my way."

Thunder rumbled softly overhead, or at least, they all initially thought it had been thunder. Behind Malroth were thousands upon thousands of monsters approaching, all of varying shapes, sizes, and deadliness. They moved as one unit, forming behind Malroth like an army, stopping only when he lifted a hand.

_That's exactly what they are,_ the Builder realized with horror. _Malroth's got an army at his disposal. He's on _their_ side, now._

"Why are you doing this?" she asked. "Why won't you let me talk to you? If you would just listen, you'd know I wasn't making excuses and—"

"I'm done listening to you!" Malroth barked. "You should've trusted me! How many adventures have we been through together? And yet you still held up that mirror, you still threw me in jail and left me there, only letting me out when you need my help. What kind of friend _are_ you, anyway?!"

His words cut through her worse than any physical weapon ever could. The Builder's mouth fell closed with a gentle snap, shame coloring her cheeks. He was right. What kind of friend _was_ she?

"Why do you have _them_ with you?" Lulu asked, eyeing a badboon that looked particularly ferocious. "What do you mean when you say 'we're going to do this my way'? Come on, Malroth, why can't we talk things out?"

"Talk about what? The fact that your precious Builder betrayed me?"

"You aren't even letting her apologize to you. How could you just walk away from your friendship over one misunderstanding?"

Malroth's eyes narrowed, those ruby reds turning murderous. "Do you know what it's like to sit in a jail cell and rot?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact I do," she shot back. "Back on the ship, before we ended up on this isle, I—"

"Do you know what it's like to sit in a jail cell and rot because your own best friend doesn't trust you, even when you've done nothing but be there for her and protect her?"

Lulu faltered. "Well, _no_, but—"

"But nothing. This isle is mine. The _Builder_ is mine. I'm going to pay her back for all the trouble and pain she's caused me. And then I'm going to destroy this pathetic island!"

It was then that the villagers began to fall back, the fighters coming forward, swords at the ready. The Builder felt frozen, icy adrenaline flooding her veins along with heartache. Their friendship was irreparable. No amount of talking or apologizing would do any good now; all that was left was to fight, and with how the current situation looked, this battle would only lead to one becoming victor. Malroth would either defeat them, killing everyone in his path, or they would be forced to take him down.

The Builder wanted to vomit. How did it get this bad? If she could just go back in time and grab Warwick by the ear and toss _him_ in that damn cell instead of Malroth... If she could just hug her best friend and tell him that she was sorry, that she made a huge mistake and had so much to make up to him...

No one said anything, but they didn't have to. Bonanzo, Dougie, Gerome, Britney, everyone... What they were thinking was clear: they were going to fight to protect the Builder, even if the odds were immensely stacked against them. Even if it meant certain death.

Malroth seemed to sense this as well because he laughed. "You think you can handle my army, huh? I'm gonna wipe the floor with all of you!"

With that, he snapped his fingers and all hell broke loose.

Monsters descended upon humans. Shouts, roars, growls, and cries filled the air alongside the sounds of clanking swords. The humans managed to take on a few waves of monsters, but then the tides turned. Babs and Anessa fought side-by-side when they were cornered by a particularly strong group of killing machines, Bonanzo and the miners fighting valiantly against some skeleton scrappers and soldiers. Maguses, shamans, bewarewolfs, knight errants... Malroth was pulling out all the stops possible. The Isle of Awakening's fighters were trying to keep up, but there were too many monsters.

"They're too strong, fall back!" Anessa shouted. The soldiers from Moonbrooke obliged, retreating slowly as an axesaurus began to give chase. The people from Khrumbul-Dun and Furrowfield had their hands full as well. Esther and Jeremiah were doing everything they could to continue healing those who were wounded, but the ratio of monster to human was overwhelming. Too many people were falling on the battlefield for them to keep track of, and it was only a matter of time before they fell, too.

As another wave was defeated with great difficulty, another appeared. There were four green dragons, six giant killing machines, two boss trolls, death scorpions, orcs... The list went on. They were grossly outnumbered, and the worst part of it all was that Malroth was no longer there to help fend them all off.

This time, _he_ was the one leading the attack.

The Builder did what she could to help her friends, but there was one person currently distracting her from her mission. As soon as he spotted those familiar blonde pigtails, he let out a ferocious battle cry and charged towards her, a fiery black aura surrounding him. He pursued her at every turn and kept striking at her _hard_, almost to the point where a single hit would be enough to knock her out cold... If not _worse_. She had no choice but to focus on holding him off while the others dealt with his seemingly endless army.

No one failed to notice that Malroth looked more monster than human, his gloves torn up to reveal sharp black claws on his fingers. His ears were becoming webbed and purple, scales beginning to show around various parts of his skin. Even his teeth were much sharper than usual.

"Why are you doing this?" she yelled, the sounds of battle drowning out the world around them. Her Aurora Blade clashed with his club as he swung it at her, and she planted her feet firmly in the wet sand as she held him off. "I thought we were friends!"

"You're not my friend! This whole time, you've only been using me!" he snarled. A burst of strength rippled through him and he sent the Builder flying backwards, nearly knocking the sword out of her hands. Malroth surged forward and lifted his club high, bringing it down with all of his might. It would have crushed the Builder had she not rolled out of the way at the last second, her eyes widening at how close a call that had been.

"Malroth, stop! This is madness! If you keep this up, you'll kill us!"

Malroth didn't respond this time. His eyes held a faraway look to them, as if he weren't mentally present. The Builder's eyes widened as she realized this wasn't quite Malroth. Something was controlling him, something truly evil and wicked. The person trying to fight her was not her best friend.

She had to help him. Somehow, some way, she had to get through to him despite whatever had gained control over him.

He struck at her again and again, and she held off every attack as best she could. He was about to charge at her again when a huge knight errant interrupted, falling between them and momentarily obstructing Malroth's path. The Builder was about to ready herself for another attack from him when she heard a terrified scream. The Builder turned to see Rosie, Perry, Haydin, and Lillian surrounded by a bunch of huge army ants. She hurried towards them and felled each of the army ants quickly. After the last army ant met its end, a massive roar shook the island and everyone, monster and human alike, paused in their battles to look towards Malroth, who was no longer himself.

He clutched at his skull, pained grunts and screams escaping him as his body began to twist and grow. Greenish scales replaced his tan skin and his face morphed into something inhuman. Over the span of minutes, he grew to almost the size of Atlas, his body morphing into that of a massive dragon with a sharp pair of horns, four arms, a tail with a snake head at the end of it, and a face that could cause nightmares.

When he was finished transforming, a deep, chill-inducing chuckle boomed throughout the land and the fighting resumed around the Builder. She looked at her former friend with a mix of horror and sadness.

_Malroth... What's happened to you? What have you become?_

It wasn't long before the humans were finally overtaken, many of them lying around the beach with monsters surrounding them, daring them to get up as they waited for their master to give the signal to put an end to the battle once and for all.

Malroth's now-yellowed gaze swept over the battlefield searchingly. All of the humans he'd once called "friends" were sprawled out around the beach, many of them sporting hefty injuries. Everything inside of him craved their destruction and demise. The Builder had done a wonderful job inspiring hope within their hearts, and what a treat it would be to watch that flame of hope flicker and die once he extinguished the cause of their persistence.

_No..._ A voice whispered within him. This_ is wrong... They're my friends... They don't deserve this!_

The dragon growled. His head felt funny again... Part of him wanted to smash this island to smithereens, but another part... _Wanted to save them all?_

"What... What exactly do you want?" Bonanzo asked, gritting his teeth through his pain.

The question caught the destructive entity off-guard. He hadn't expected one of those weak little humans to actually address him.

"I want the Builder," Malroth snarled, looking very much dragon and barely like the handsome warrior they'd all grown to care about. "She and I have unfinished business."

The Builder moved from behind Bonanzo, who was wheezing and clutching his side. "My girl, stay close to me. I can still protect you!"

"No, Bonanzo." The blonde smiled sadly at him. "It isn't necessary for you to protect me. This is between me and Malroth."

"But, my girl—"

"Please. I promise, I'll be okay."

Malroth was watching them closely, and his scowl morphed into a malicious grin once the Builder began to walk towards him without hesitation.

"I'm right here."

"Come forward. _Now_."

The blonde obliged, making her way slowly past the many unconscious forms of their friends. Den and the miners from various Buildertopias were out cold, Digby and Dougie sporting hefty injuries despite their obvious strength. Some of the soldiers from Moonbrooke were still standing, albeit surrounded by monsters, but Anessa and Zara had not been as fortunate. They were lying side-by-side on the ground, both groaning softly as pain continued to ebb from their wounds.

"No, B-Builder..." Anessa coughed, weakly reaching for the blonde's leg once she was close enough. "Please... H-he'll kill you.."

"It's okay, Anessa, he won't kill me. The Malroth I know would never hurt me."

"But... We _need_ you..."

The Builder knelt down and placed a caring hand on the wounded general's shoulder. "You guys don't need me. All you ever needed was for someone to help you remember what hope feels like. You're all capable of incredible things, you just needed to realize it."

"You taught us how to build, how to _live_. Please, Builder, d-don't go to him."

"You of all people understand the value of sacrifice, Anessa. When I agreed to help you guys, I also agreed to help protect you from whatever threats came your way. Let me fulfill that. If I can save all of you, I'd gladly do whatever it takes."

Anessa looked like she wanted to protest more, but she simply nodded, settling back down with a wince. Babs was lying a few feet away, her beautiful face dirty from being tossed into the sand like a rag doll. Zara was barely conscious, but managed to lift her head and offer the Builder a weak yet meaningful glance.

"Please, Builder..." the soldier coughed. "Be careful."

The blonde in question nodded, and Zara closed her eyes, settling back down just as Anessa had.

Monsters watched as the Builder slowly made her way towards their master.

_There has to be a way to get through to him_, she thought. Whatever was controlling him couldn't stop him from feeling emotions; he was obviously still fueled by hurt. Maybe she could get through to him by trying to reason.

"What do you want with me?" she asked softly, halting before him. "How can I make things right?"

"You can't make things right. You left me to rot!"

"I had no idea that Warwick was playing the blame game," the Builder argued. "None of us knew he was the traitor!"

"If none of you knew, why was I the one you immediately accused?"

"The others may have accused you first, but I never thought that way about you! You're my best friend, Malroth, I fought for you to be freed!"

"Do you have any idea how long I spent in that jail cell?"

Guilt crossed the Builder's features. "I'm sorry, Malroth, I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am. I tried to get you out as soon as I could, I swear I did, but no one listened to me."

He scowled. "Still doesn't change the fact that I had to sit there and rot while the real traitor got to walk free. How fair is that?"

"I can't change the past. All I can do is try to be a better person in the future."

Malroth's massive arm shot forward and grabbed her by the hips, lifting her high into the air. She yelped.

The warrior was gone, but she could still see her tough best friend deep within those menacing yellow eyes. The Master of Destruction squeezed and the Builder grunted in pain, gritting her teeth to keep from outright screaming. If he squeezed any harder, he'd crush her pelvis; he'd _kill _her, he'd kill everyone.

"If I destroy you, my pain will stop," his voice was much deeper, much more terrifying than the Builder imagined was possible.

"If you destroy me," the Builder managed to wheeze. "You'll destroy yourself."

The dragon cackled. "Pray tell, worthless builder, how would that happen?"

"Because," she grit out. "Without me... You'll be alone."

"As if I care about being alone," he hissed. "I don't need you. I don't need _any_ of you. You left me alone when I needed you most, but you did show me that I don't need you."

Although part of her was scared of this version of her best friend, she knew that deep down, Malroth was just angry. He was hurt and angry and felt betrayed, and rightfully so.

"Malroth," she whispered, gritting her teeth at the pain. "Listen, I made a huge mist—_agh!_—mistake, and I'm sorry. I know I can't take it back, I can't take away how hurt you feel."

He scoffed. "I am _not_ hurt."

"Yes, you are." Her blue eyes searched his yellowed ones. "And it's _okay_, Malroth. You have every right to be angry with me. You thought I'd betrayed you and left you, especially after everything you'd sacrificed and done for me. You thought I'd purposely locked you up, that I didn't trust you after all the time we've spent adventuring together. That hurts more than any physical injury. But please... I'm asking for your forgiveness. You're my best friend and I made a mistake, I'm not perfect, but I'm not lying when I say I fought for you, that much is true. Ask Anessa, ask Gerome, ask the king himself next time you see him... I tried, Malroth. I tried to get you out of there, but no one would listen to me. Demands kept popping up."

"And you allowed these demands to get in the way of my freedom? Your supposed best friend was less important than some stupid little tasks?"

The Builder winced as he squeezed once in warning. She opened her mouth to speak, but someone else beat her to it.

"She's telling the truth!" Zara shouted. Malroth's murderous gaze flickered towards the wounded soldier, his grip loosening ever so slightly. "We didn't mean for you to stay locked up, but then we had to deal with Warwick, and then Atlas, and then building the Kazapple Cannon. She tried to get us to listen, to give you your freedom, but we were too caught up in everything else. Please, Malroth, she _did_ try!"

The Builder glanced up at the dragon currently gripping her. His eyes flickered from Zara to her. After a moment of deliberation, much to the Builder's surprise, his grip loosened even more. His eyes bore into hers, but she didn't shy away; she met his stare head-on like always. While most people found Malroth's eyes weird or intimidating, the Builder never, ever thought so. She was the only one who never failed to look him in the eye, and she never showed a hint of fear while doing it. She was a strange one, but that was one of the things he liked most about her.

Even now... She was facing him at his literal worst. He'd become something truly horrifying, and yet she still met his eyes fearlessly.

They were best friends. People were not perfect and he was no different... How many times had he tried creating something, only for it to blow up in his face? And those soldiers who had died in Moonahan... That had been his fault. They would still be alive today if not for him. How could he sit there and judge her for one mistake when he'd made plenty himself? He had blood on his hands...

The biggest mistake of all was right in front of him: most of their friends lying unconscious on the field, bruised and battered from his army. Shame and horror filled him at the realization that this was all _his_ fault. He'd hurt the very people he'd vowed to protect with his life. He'd let something dark and twisted within him spiral out of control, and everyone he ever cared about had paid the price.

"Malroth." The Builder's sweet voice stole his attention once more. She could see the pain in his eyes, the anguish, the self-conviction, and the hurt swirling deep down inside his soul. "Malroth, please. Talk to me. Let me try to be here for you, just like you've always been there for me. Whatever is hurting you... Aside from my screw up in Moonbrooke... We can face it together. You don't have to deal with it alone. I'm your friend... Let me help you. Let me be there for you like you've always been here for me."

That seemed to be the final straw. Something within his gaze softened and the claws around her gently lowered her to the ground, setting her on her feet. The Builder looked up at him with gratitude only to see Malroth's extra arms clutching his body in pain. He seemed to be having some kind of internal battle with himself. He groaned as his claws came up to grasp his head.

"Builder..." That deep and terrifying voice rang out over the battlefields, but Malroth's mouth never moved. "You lie... You lie to save your own skin."

"I tell the truth," she corrected. "And if you really think I'm lying, then... Then go right ahead and destroy _me_."

"BUILDER, _NO_!" Many of the others began shouting her name, begging her not to say such a thing or to offer her life, but the blonde pretended not to hear them. To Malroth's credit, even he seemed stunned by her words.

"I trust you, Malroth," she continued, falling to her knees. "You're still my best friend and I love you fiercely. If you really think I'm lying, then you can destroy me, right here and now, but I ask that you leave the others unharmed. Don't make them pay for my mistake. Please."

The silence that followed was tense. Malroth's breaths came out in shaky, ragged pants as shooting pains continued to wrack through his head. He watched as the Builder lifted her hand up towards him. Instinctively, he lifted a clawed hand and met hers in the gentlest high-five ever.

"I'm just gonna say one final thing," the Builder said, that dopey grin returning. It seemed like the storm began to let up at the return of her sunny demeanor, and Malroth tilted his head to the side curiously as he waited for her to continue. "You and I are creation and destruction, right? Well, we _can_ be friends, and I think we _should_ be. You wanna know why? Because we're two sides of the same coin. Without creation, there's nothing to destroy, and without destruction, creation can't happen. We need each other, Mal, and I think we were meant to become friends. I'm glad I met you, and I know a lot of other people who'd say the same thing."

Everyone seemed to be holding their breath, watching and waiting as Malroth let out one final, loud roar as plumes of purple fire overtook him. Bright lights exploded forth from his body, the world becoming so bright for a moment that no one could see anything _but_ light. When the world became right again, no longer was a dragon in their midst; in the monster's stead was the handsome young man they'd all come to know and care for, only... He didn't look like his usual self. Humiliation and defeat colored his expression, those red eyes full of deep sadness and confusion. The Builder wondered if he even knew what had just come over him. She was pretty sure Malroth wasn't aware he could transform into a full-fledged dragon.

No one said anything. Even Lulu, who usually had something to say about everything, remained silent. They all just stared at Malroth, unsure of how to approach him. He clutched his head and looked around, blinking a few times as if awakening from a dream.

The Builder, however, didn't hesitate. She immediately closed the distance between them and pulled him into a tight hug. Malroth tensed up at first, unused to such an affectionate gesture, but then practically collapsed against her, silent sobs wracking through his body as he clung to her. His embrace was almost painful, but she gladly held him, happy to have him in her arms.

The people of Furrowfield, Khrumbul-Dun, and Moonbrooke slowly eased themselves up from where they'd all been resting on the ground. Many limped forward to encompass the Builder and Malroth in a weak attempt at a group-hug, and as they did so, Malroth's tears only worsened.

"I'm... I'm so sorry," he choked out. "I never meant to hurt any of you, I-I was just angry, and then my head felt funny, and—"

"It's okay," the Builder whispered, and he pushed away from her, brokenness written all over his face. "It's okay now, Malroth."

"It's not okay. I hurt each and every one of you," he murmured, his head hanging low with shame. "I'm a monster. I... I don't deserve your forgiveness."

"That ain't true," Digby piped up. "Yer still one of us. And we still care loads about ya!"

"Yeah! You've, like, totally saved our butts more times than I can count," Britney chimed in. A nasty-looking bruise adorned her left cheek, but she still managed a grin. "You're the real MVP, Malroth."

Anessa managed a smile through her pain. "As one of the best soldiers Moonbrooke has to offer, allow me to say that you are a truly righteous man. I apologize for ever doubting your intentions back on Moonbrooke, Malroth. We all apologize for what we put you through."

Malroth looked at each and every one of their friends, his heartache only worsening when he realized just how bruised and banged-up they all were. They would be going through a lot of medicinal herbs, that was for sure.

"A righteous man would never hurt his friends, no matter how angry," he said sadly.

At that, Zara shook her head. "Even the most righteous man makes mistakes. We don't always make the best decisions when we're angry or hurt."

"I _was_ angry and hurt," he admitted. "But I took it all too far, I let it... I let it control me."

"Hurt and anger tend to do that to people," Rosie chimed in. "What matters is that you came to your senses before it was too late."

"B-but I hurt all of you!" he protested. "How is that not considered 'too late'?"

"Because you didn't kill us," Sister Esther's soft voice reminded. "You didn't kill the Builder. Even in your pain, you couldn't bring yourself to truly hurt us. That, my lamb, is what matters most."

Even after all of this, they still cared about him. They still looked at him as one of their own.

_I screwed up big time..._

"How do I fix all of this?" he asked, his voice uncharacteristically small. The monsters were watching in shocked silence at how remorseful their master was. He was supposed to be all about destruction and chaos, so why was he weeping and apologizing? Hadn't Hargon indicated he was beyond such things?

"I should be asking _you_ that," the Builder said. Tears swam in her own eyes and Malroth felt that much worse. Making a lady cry was not something a man should be proud of, after all. "If it weren't for what happened in Moonbrooke, we wouldn't be here. I'm sorry for not believing you, Malroth. I should've known something was up with Warwick since he was the one who kept pointing a finger at everyone but himself. I'm sorry for holding up that mirror and for letting you get imprisoned. I'm sorry for all of it."

Her tears began to fall, mixing with the gentler rain that continued to pelt the Isle of Awakening. The Builder covered her face as her emotions overwhelmed her, and it was Malroth's turn to grab her and pull her into a bone-crushing hug.

"It's okay. None of us knew it was him. He covered his tracks very well, we couldn't have known."

"No, Malroth, it's not okay. I should've fought harder for you, I shouldn't have let it get as far as it did. I'm _so_ sorry, Malroth—"

"Shh..."

As they clung to each other, monsters and humans alike watched as creation and destruction silently made amends. The time for fighting had ceased; now all there was left to do was pick up the broken pieces and rebuild from there.


End file.
